’m a Reader. A Psychic. Although I have never enjoyed that term. Be that as it may, as with most sensitives, my abilities came through noticeably after the proverbial bump on the head. A fractured skull, the result of a fall did the trick. Music has always been the link to my empathic sense. I could sing any song I heard from the age of 8 months old. I assigned certain songs to the people in my life. For example: As a one year old I would sing, ‘The Autumn Leaves’ and tears would run down my face. My teenage Aunt and her friends thought it was the funniest thing they ever saw. At the time, my Mother was ill. I felt something was terribly wrong. I felt her pain and love and grief. I felt so much and I had no words but I had music. I would cry when I sang ‘The Autumn Leaves’ because in my baby-mind it was Betty Jane’s song. The haunting melody described all of her and all of me. I was losing her and I knew it. The adults taking care of me did not know this. Two weeks before my second birthday she crossed over.